The Blue Eyed Boy

Alex II

"Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears every once in a while, so that we can see life with a clearer view." -alex tan

I have always loved the sea. Something about the rhythmic movement of the water, the sound of the waves hitting the shore, all of it comes together to make a beautiful, crazy sanctuary for me. Kind of like that elephant painting. Everything was so different, but worked in a way that when combined created something amazing.

I felt like that painting sometimes. A whole bunch of different stuff, so that if you were to focus on one particular part of me, it wouldn't make much sense. You just have to take a step back to see the full picture.

"Yo, Aristotle! Stop contemplating the meaning of existence and pay me attention!" Sam was standing with her hands on her hips a few feet away. Her golden sunglasses reflected spots of light across the sandy beach.

"Pay you attention? I mean, if you insist." I smiled smugly, then reached down and cupped the salt water into my hands.

"Oh no! Alex, I swear, if you splash me then...well then something."

"No deal." The droplets caught the sunlight and danced with it as they flew through the air.

"I am going to sneak into your room and cut off your balls!"

I threw more water.

"I will throw you into my oven and cook you like soufflé!"

Still, I continued to splash the ocean onto her. Sam was slowly backing away from me as I continually got closer. I reached for a pink plastic bucket we had brought for sand castles. We might have been seventeen, almost at the age for legal adult-ing, but Sam and I were really five year olds at heart. Building sandcastles and collecting seashells was only the beginning of the long list of childish things we did.

"I will call your mother!"

The bucket was held in the water.

"I will call your father!"

It was half full.

"I WILL JUST FUCKING RUN!" The bucket was finally full, but Sam had turned and was sprinting down the shore we had parked our bikes at. Her back muscles turned and moved as her feet repeatedly hit the wet sand. Soon the only thing I could see of her was the bright color of her blue swimsuit; the color of her skin was blending into the ground.

I dropped the bucket. No way was I going to chase after her, Sam ran track. At first glance, you wouldn't be able to tell because her legs were fairly short compared to the other runners'. If you looked closer, though, there were small bulges of muscle on her calves.

Again, I thought of the elephant painting. I was just like that painting. Sam wasn't. She had a whole bunch of different stuff that made her one whole picture, but all those pieces were lovely in their own way. You could look at Sam under a microscope and still be appalled by her beauty. Look at me under a microscope and you would not have the same reaction.

"Socrates! What did I say about contemplating the meaning of existence! Get your head out of the sky, Star-Boy." Speaking of.

"Okay, now I'm confused. Am I Aristotle, Socrates, or Star-Boy?"

She plopped down next to me and began filling the bucket with sand instead of water. "All three of them. Arisocraboy!"